


The Lion Wife

by LeoSapphirus



Series: The Lion's Love [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoSapphirus/pseuds/LeoSapphirus
Summary: Newlywed Lady Brienne brings her husband Ser Jaime Lannister, and their ever growing band of sidekicks on her quest to return the Stark girls to safety.





	The Lion Wife

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of [The Lion Maid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032018/chapters/18393058).
> 
> You'll want to read that first if you haven't already.

He sat at the tavern, nursing a flagon of red and awaiting his bride’s return. Mysteriously, she’d gone off to speak with the matron of the establishment. To ask if she’d seen a maid of three-and-ten? Or for some other reason?

Whatever it was, it was taking too long. He wanted her. Had to have her alone and behind closed doors. Away from prying eyes and ears. Gods, they’d not lain together in nearly four days. He could thank their fellow travelers for that. Brienne was ill-disposed to accept his rutting as an audience lingered in the background. The boy knew how to make himself scarce. But Hyle the Cunt was all too happy to cock-block him at every turn.

At least she’d agreed to sleep in his arms. 

_“A lady wife must share a bed with her lord husband.” He’d had to remind her._

_“And when there is no bed?”_

_“Then she must share his bed roll.”_

He could not have borne it, had she refused him that. She still awoke weeping some nights. But did so quietly now. So that no one would hear her. Only he knew. _When would the horror of Biter’s cursed fangs let her be?_

“Ser.” She called to him softly. Cautiously opting not to utter his name.

Before he could greet her properly, a slovenly man the table over stood up and announced to the room that he’d “Best get home lest the wife bar the door again.”

“Yee best stay put and avoid traveling by night, lest the Mad Dog of Saltpans get yee.” An old drunkard cackled.

“The Hound? Demon dog’s been dead for weeks.” The slovenly man countered to his ancient drinking companion.

“Says who?”

“Why, everyone. Cut down by the Lion Maid herself.”

“Lion’s Maid, eh?”

“Aye, the Kingslayer’s whore. A great beast of a woman, that one. Fucked him so good, he gave her a Valyrian steel sword as a reward.” The man chuckled. 

“She fucked the Hound?”

“No, you old coot. She fucked the bloody Kingslayer. She fucked Lannister. He’s the one who done gave her the sword.”

Beneath her helm, his bride was blushing furiously, he knew. All shamed-faced and rendered shy. She’d been clever to keep Oathkeeper hidden beneath her cloak. 

“The one who released him from the Tully Dungeons?”

“The very same. She came to him while he was being held prisoner. Gave herself to him. Took turns fucking him with Ned Stark’s own widow, she did. Even had it off with Lady Catelyn while the Kingslayer watched. That’s why they done released him. For love.” This was followed by a great deal more cackling. 

He burst out laughing himself. Brienne’s indignant fury making it all the more a delight. The resentful disapproval in her beautiful eyes a condemnation to them all.

“It’s a lie.” She hissed angrily under her breath. “Lady Catelyn would never. That… That never happened.” She insisted, as if she had to convince him. He grabbed her, even as he was still bent over with laughter. She seemed like to march over to the merry drunks and start setting the record straight. 

“Was that the way of it? I can’t recall.” He teased. It earned him the most withering of looks. One which, instead of cowing him, only made him want to get her alone and riled-up all the more. “It’s time for bed.” He informed her firmly, not letting her go. “You’ve done your errand. Now let us retire for the night. Pod and Hyle have their accommodations. And we have our own.”

***

It rankled her to hear folk speak such filth of her lady. Had they no respect for the dead? And Jaime was…

“How could you laugh?” She demanded the second they were in their room and the door was barred.

“How could I not?” He asked unperturbed. “Now let’s take off your helm. And everything else.” 

She removed her helm. But only so she could glare at him unencumbered. 

“It’s tavern gossip. All foolishness and bawdy rumor.” He reminded her. “Surely, not the worst you’ve heard? Although, I must admit, some of the tale did catch my fancy.”

“Lady Catelyn would have never!” She told him in cold horror.

“Oh, leave her out of it. That’s not the part that pleased me. As if I’d share _my woman_ with some grump of a fish turned she-wolf. No, it was the part about a certain maiden having come to me when I was in chains that I found _delicious_.”

“Delicious?” She asked shakily, her anger at once changing into something else entirely.

“So delicious.” He echoed pulling her into a kiss. “You came to me in a common roughspun cloak, much like this.” He said pulling her cloak off her shoulders. “Except you had nothing on underneath.” 

“But my armor…” She exclaimed foolishly. What did it matter what she wore in his tale?

“No armor.” He corrected her as he began to remove it from her body. Hastily, she worked to aid him in the task. “You left it in your tent alongside your small clothes. You stripped yourself and came to me wearing only a cloak and boots. _That_ was the way of it.” Her breastplate was off, as was the gambeson she’d worn underneath. “You stole away into the dungeons at night and into my cell.” 

“I would have been caught.”

“You weren’t.” He assured her as his fingertips brushed across her sensitive nipples. “You appeared to me when I was desperate and alone. Like a gift from the gods. By torch light you showed me how you were bare underneath. Opening your cloak to me and…”

“Jaime.” She implored him, utterly trembling now. Even as she kicked off her boots.

“You showed me those blonde curls.” He said as her trousers and smallclothes were pulled down her long legs revealing her sex. “And offered me your maiden’s honey, remember?”

“Jaime.” She cried a second time. The ache between her legs so powerful now she could hardly bear it. “Jaime, I never did any of those things.” She protested. Not knowing why. It was just that he was driving her mad with wanting.

“Shh.” He said softly as he took her into his arms. His fingertips tracing down the small of her back before he was cupping her buttocks with one hand. “It’s only play.” He soothed, then bit his lip in excitement. “Sit at the edge of the bed.” 

She did. Eagerly. 

And watched with big eyes as Jaime made quick work of divesting himself. Removing his clothing in a manner intent on her seduction. Showing off the delicious beauty of his body. He looked a god framed in the glowing firelight of the small hearth. His manhood jutting out furiously at her.

She spread her legs for him. It was an act of pure need, having nothing to do with boldness. 

An instant later he had knelt between them and was kissing her so hungrily she almost believed he meant to devour her. She did nothing but encourage him. Her hands coming to smooth over the plains of his strong shoulders and sculpted arms. 

“I love you.” He told her. The words a precious incantation to her now. 

“I love you.” She whispered in return, enjoying how his mouth trailed down her chest. His tongue darting out to flick over a nipple. He watched her through hooded eyes as he did it again and again. First to one and then the other. 

“I’ve wanted these all day.” He informed her, making her blush. 

For ages he teased her peaks before he finally began to suckle. She moaned loudly at the harsh pleasure of it, and prayed the walls were thick enough that she had not been overheard. 

His fingers soon came to caress her core and found her… ready. He let out a gratified grunt as he spread her with his fingers. “Fuck.” He hissed. His smile wide. The sight seeming to drive him mad. “Spread yourself for me as I cannot.” He demanded, raising his stump as if to remind her. “Show me how pink you are down there. How sweet.” She did so hesitantly. Her large hands coming to spread her folds wide open. It was so terribly embarrassing. And yet exhilarating. The sheer lustfulness of it outrageous. Jaime stroked himself as he watched and breathed her in. Allowing himself half-a-dozen pumps, but no more. Then he was hooking her legs up over his shoulders. “Lay back.” He ordered gruffly. Before she could even think to comply, he was lapping wantonly at her sex. She fell backwards onto the straw mattress, beside herself with pleasure, yet still having the sense to clasp her hands over her mouth.

Jaime’s tongue dipped deep inside her, swirling. His fingers following suit soon after. He hooked them upwards into her, hitting that magic spot again. Bringing them in and out of her at just the right pace as he suckled lustfully at her nub. 

He made it _so good_ for her.

Shouldn’t she be doing the same for him? Wasn’t it her duty as his wife?

At Bitterbridge she’d seen a camp follower on her knees in front of a man-at-arms. She’d been taking him into her mouth, hadn’t she? She’d been pleasuring him. It made her dizzy to think of doing the same for Jaime. 

Gods help her, his laps at her were nothing short of ravenous. If that weren’t enough, he was watching her with roguish cat-green eyes. So pleased to be making a wreck of her. 

“JAIMEE.” She wept as she came. Her legs shaking uncontrollably. “Jaime, please. I want you.”

He came to her. Kissing her hard and sweet. Having her taste herself as he liked to do. “Say you want me inside.” He insisted as he all but mounted her, bringing her legs up with him. His arms on either side of her, caging her to the bed and ensuring he kept the brunt of his weight off her body.

“Deep inside.” She panted. “But I wish to pleasure you first, my lord. As you have pleasured me. I think I know of a way.”

“And how does a maiden know of sucking a man’s cock?” He asked lustfully. 

“I am no maiden, ser. But a woman wed and bedded, as you well know. And I am not so naïve. I’ve seen… things.” His kisses came again. Fierce and claiming. Washing over her like a monsoon. 

“You are my maiden.” He asserted possessively as he ground against her. His index finger coming to trace sensually over her swollen lips. She knew to draw it into her mouth. Knew to suckle. To lick. This was practice. 

He watched with eyes so dark with desire, it seemed as if this alone gave him all the pleasure he could bear. The anticipation of it soon getting the better of him. He shot to his feet a second later, panting.

“You sure you want this? You needn’t if… You pleasure me plenty as it is, wench. Too much, mayhaps.” He shuddered as if from delight. 

“I want to.” She told him firmly as she came to stand.

He grabbed a black fur from off the bed and tossed it on the floor. It was for her to kneel on. 

She did.

His hand went to her hair as he stood before her.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded yes.

It was right in front of her face now.

She leaned in. Wanting him. Her hands reaching for his shaft. Stroking him as she knew he liked.

“Kiss me.” He pleaded. 

Her lips met the pink head of his manhood as she placed a single adoring kiss upon the tip. Then daring to dart out her tongue, she tasted the sticky droplets that had split from him.

He let out a long appreciative groan.

She licked at him again, craving the salty taste of him.

“Look at me.” He demanded. She did. But not without a rush of self-consciousness. She was an ugly woman on her knees. Her cheek savaged. A bandage covering the scarred wreckage. How must she look to him? “Your eyes should never leave mine.” He coached. “I wish to look into them the entire time.”

But it was his gaze that captivated her. He was so forceful in his passion. Even as he received. It drove her to wildness. Wantonly, she licked the tip down. Continued licking along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. Until she had reached his orbs. From there she licked back to the tip again. That sent his entire body humming with that same desperate shuddering delight. 

“THAT!” He begged. She did it all over again. Taking her time. Watching intently. “YES!” He encouraged, roaring. “FUCK YES!” 

Slowly she circled the head with her tongue, further committing the taste of him to memory. She would never forget. 

Any of it. Not his taste. Not the tightening of his muscles. Not the way he watched her. His hand massaging her scalp lovingly as she teased him with her tongue. He kept a rather greedy hold on her. 

Thirsting for all she could get, she drew the tip of his… his _cock_ into her mouth. Even thinking the word seemed wicked. As wicked as it was thrilling. She suckled him with a shocking eagerness as she stroked his shaft. So pleased to be driving him to the same madness he had inflected on her.

He thrust once, his hard thick _cock_ slipping deeper past her lips, before he could force his hips to still.

“Enough for now.” He urged, withdrawing. “Forgive me. It’s just… I’m…”

“How was it?” 

“Fantastic.” He groaned out suggestively, making his delight quite evident. He offered her both hand and stump in his eagerness to get her to her feet, and noticed a second too late. She accepted both before he could withdraw the offer of the latter. Noting it was the first time he’d ever touched her with it. At least semi-intentionally. 

A moment lingered between them, before he was pulling her desperately into his embrace. Kissing her passionately. Laying her down properly on the bed. 

“I’ve been waiting for days.” He said as he spread her legs with a knee. “Brienne.” He actually moaned her name. “I want to bed my wife.”

“Yes.” She implored. The head of his _cock_ was at her entrance, insistent and ready to breach her. Except… “Wait, I’ve not told you yet.”

“What’s that, my lady?” 

“Moon tea. I’ve acquired the ingredients. So you won’t have to…”

“Oh…” He said sounding shocked if not very well pleased. “So, that was your task then?”

“Yes. It’s the most sensible thing to do given our circumstances.” 

He kissed her. Filling her. Making the both of them cry out.

“Given our _current_ circumstances.” He amended moving slowly within her. 

She nodded in agreement. Delighting in the feel of him stretching her. Hoping against hope she was not lying. Hoping that one day she’d be able to give Jaime all that a husband deserved. The thought of failing in _all_ her vows making her desperate. _Gods, he felt so good inside._ Yet he was still holding his weight off of her. She could not abide it any longer. In a fit of desire and despair, she pulled Jaime fully atop. Locking her arms about his back.

“Fuck.” He cursed against her throat. Shocked but hardly displeased. “I’ve been trying my damnedest to be gentle with you wench and you...”

“My name is Brienne. And you told me that you would not hold back once I was healed.” She reminded him, bringing up her legs to lock about his waist.

“And are you healed, Lady Brienne? Fully healed?” He demanded. His hand coming to splay appreciatively across her upper thigh.

“Fully.” She attested intractably. The girth of him inside her causing her to pant deeply even as he held still. He was not immune to it either. His breathing becoming every bit as agitated as her own. Beads of sweat collecting upon his brow.

“Recovered enough to be gallivanting up the kingsroad all day, in any case. With little rest and…”

She clenched around him impatiently. 

He growled loudly in response. “You think I don’t want to fuck you like this?” He demanded thrusting into her and making her cry out in bliss. “You think I haven’t been dying for it since the first time I tasted your lips?” He thrust again. “You think I don’t love this?” 

“Jaime, please.” She begged. Each thrust he gave a sublime gift. His pace beyond pleasing. Not exactly rough. But much more vigorous than anything they’d done before. And the way he held her was… 

“Don’t blame me if you’re sore upon the morrow.” He murmured between heated kisses, drowning in his own pleasure. 

She wouldn’t dare. 

***

He woke to muffled cries and the rustling of furs. His body still humming from the night of steamy bliss she’d given him. 

“No, my love.” He pleaded with his sleeping lady. “I’m right here.”

She would not suffer in silence tonight. He would not have it. 

He could just barely see her. Only ambers lit the room now.

Her great blue eyes opening in search of him.

He kissed her from sleep to waking. Feeling her tears against his skin. 

“Jaime.” She murmured as if still in dream.

“I’m right here. You are with me.” He assured her. “And that vile creature is dead. You sent him to the deepest of the seven hells.”

“I… Which vile creature?” She asked in confusion. 

Too true. There were so many. “The one who harmed you so.” He whispered sorrowfully. His hand coming to tenderly stroke the skin under her bandage. “Is he not the one who torments your dreams?” 

“He is the worst of them.” She admitted. “But I did not slay him. It was Gendry who thrust a sword through his head.”

“Robert’s bastard?” He asked unthinkingly. He had not thanked the boy sufficiently then.

“You think so too? He looks so like Renly. Same blue eyes and dark hair. But not as lithe as he.” So she still thought of her precious lord and would-be king? Loved him still? _No._ She’d not once called for him when she’d been fevered. It was only his name that had left her lips. _Jaime. Jaime. Jaime._ She’d said it a thousand times. And then a thousand more.

“Robert’s brood can be found all throughout Westeros, I’d wager.” Except ever long in his wife’s belly. What a mess, the lot of it. 

She trembled then. From disgust? Had she recalled his past sins? Or was it the cold?

“I’ll stoke the fire.”

“No.” She protested too strongly. “Stay with me.” 

Her gentle hands went into his hair. Loving him, just as she was drawing comfort from his presence. Her caresses had him leaning into her touch like some love-starved kitten.

He moved atop her, all too eager to claim her again. Kissing her more violently than he ever had before. Making her forget. Everything.

She would be his alone.

***

The morning came late for them. 

“You needed the rest after last night.” Jaime reminded her smugly.

She flushed furiously. 

“There is no time for that. We should have been on the road hours ago!”

“At the pace you have us going, we’ll reach the Gates of the Moon by sundown. That’s where Robert Ayrrn will be this close to Winter.”

“We are more than two days ride from the Bloody Gates, let alone the Gates of the Moon.”

“If the girl is indeed with her cousin, she should be safe enough for now.”

But she could not rely on safe enough. Instead, she grabbed her satchel and marched down the stairs, set on readying the horses. Jaime followed close behind.

Upon reaching the first floor she heard a voice she’d not thought to hear again.

“Could it be the Maid of Tarth?” Boomed the small man. She gaped at him. He had recognized her despite her helm. “I expected you to wait for me you know, but you took off in the dead of night. It is not so kind to leave a fellow waiting alone at an inn.” 

“And who are you?” Jaime demanded. 

“Ser Shadrich of the Shady Glen. Some call me the Mad Mouse.”

“Because you are small?” Jaime asked disinterestedly.

“Aye. And mad.” He grinned at them. “You are lucky to have come upon me, my lady. I have found your quarry. If you are still searching for _her_ , that is?”

“I am.” She admitted too freely. “Please, where can she be found?”

“That I would not give up so easily. With the eunuch gone missing and the Queen locked up, I can’t quite make out who I’m supposed to get my gold from.”

“From me.” Jaime informed the Mad Mouse as he lowered his hood. The sight of Jaime’s handsome face and golden mane catching Ser Shadrich by surprise.

“And you’re like to have it.” The man admitted, comprehending just who was before him.

“More than you could possibly imagine. Mines and mines of it. Lead us to the girl, if you indeed know where she is, and our debt to you will be repaid handsomely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please review! Comments will determine if I decide to share more of my writing or not.


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